What is a Tomb Raider?
by DemoniC FalloN
Summary: What would happen if one day Lara Croft woke up and couldn't even remember her own name? With the help of the dashing Mr. West she has to unscramble a horrific puzzle before the artifact causing her amnesia costs her the ultimate price. Can Alex accept it
1. Fear

(A/N) The infamous authours note.well I am absolutrely awful at theses because I have a tendancy to ramble.Heres a different paced story for you. And I'll kick myself to keep it updated, Reviews will fuel the speed at which I do this because simply there is no want..well I will drift back to writing my own novels. First Chapter is short but I felt it needed its own chapter thats why I've uploaded the first 3 at the same time.  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah right, if any of these characters were my own I'd be rolling in $. But I think I have a jar full of pennies I'm saving for printer cartriges o.O So no I don't own Tomb Raider or any of its characters, though its nice to pretend.  
  
This is for Jennifer Jolie, and Lara Croft, Bad Robot, and other writers who's stories I have enjoyed and who's feedback I crave.  
  
Ecspecially for Callie who makes sure I'm proud of who I am ~ The sister I always wanted though I already have one, and the best friend I'd kill for. The mother I am proud to have and the person I am glad to know.  
  
A dozen kisses , a thousand hugs, and a million thanks for saving my sanity.  
  
What is a Tomb Raider?  
  
By: Kaitlin Croft  
  
Chapter 1: Fear  
  
She'd forgotten why she was running, All she knew was that she couldn't stop. If she stopped, she'd lose. It was a race where there were only two places. First, and last. Distance. Every instinct told her to keep running, keep going so that there was distance between her and.whatever had done this to her. She was wet, the rain pounding down, clouding and stinging her eyes, but she no longer jumped at the boom of rolling thunder. Flashes of lightning didn't make her tremble, the dark wasn't what frightened her. She was long past fear of such things as the spread of darkness or the simple violence of the storm. What she feared wasn't clear any longer, only the fear itself. Fear, the only emotion she understood, crawled inside her, settling there as id she'd known nothing else. It was enough to keep her stumbling along the side of the road when her body screamed to lie down in a warm, dry place. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know where she had been. No memory of the tall wind-whipped trees, the crash and power of the sea close by meant nothing, nor did the scent of rain drenched flowers she crushed underfoot as she fled along the side of a road she didn't know. Her mind was so clouded, her legs so unsteady It would be so easy to curl up underneath one of those trees and give up, but something pushed her on. Not just fear, not just confusion. Strength-though one wouldn't guess to look fueled her endurance. How long she'd been running wasn't important, she had no idea weather it had been one mile or ten. Rain and fighting tears blinded her then the lights were nearly on her before she saw them. Panicked like a dear caught in the beams she froze. They found her. He had come for her. Him. The horn blasted, tires squealed. Submitting at last she crumpled one the road and fell unconscious. 


	2. Forgotton

(A/N) w00t 1st chapter done and our heroine is hysteric *evil chuckle* Well there is always an end to the chaos.but not quite yet. ^.^ Enjoy and its still short, cause I'm short, it fit.  
  
Disclaimer: I think this is the best part of the whole story hearing myself rant and rave about not owning Tomb Raider, but I like hearing myself talk.I talk to myself much too often O.- *twitch* Blah Blah Blah don't own it NEVER WILL. Life isn't fair.  
  
Chapter 2: Forgotton  
  
"She's coming out of it." "Thank God." "Sir, you must step back for a moment and let me examine her, she may just be drifting again." Over the mists she was swimming in, she heard the voices. Hollow distant. Fear scrambled through her, even in her half conscious state her breath began to catch. She hadn't escaped, but the fear wouldn't show. She promised herself that. As she came closer to the surface she closed her hands into tight fists. The feel of her fingers against her palms gave her some sense of self and control. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her vision ebbed, clouded then gradually cleared. So, as she stared into the face bending over her, did the fear. The face wasn't familiar. It wasn't him. She'd know wouldn't she. Her confidence wavered a moment, but she remained still. This face was round and pleasant with a trim curling white beard that contrasted with the smooth bald head. When he took her hand in his she didn't struggle She felt him take her pulse, but let her gaze wander the room. Hospital. Though the room was almost elegant, and quite large she knew she was in a hospital. The room smelled strongly of flowers and antiseptics. Then she saw the man standing to the side. He stood wearing a suit, strange she mused. His hair was flecked with gray but very dark and full. His face too was pleasant to see, softened expression, but she hadn't recognized it wither. "Oh Welcome back." He stated grabbing her hand happily. She didn't pull away, compassion forbid it, instead she studied his face again, "Who are you?" The man's head jerked up. His damp eyes stared into hers, "Who-" You're very weak." Gently the doctor cut him off and drew her attention away. She saw him put a hand on the man's arm in restraint or comfort she couldn't tell. "You've been through a great deal, confusion is natural at first." Lying flat on her back she watched the doctor and the other man talk their voices fading in and out. A raw sickness begun to roll inside her stomach, she was warm and dry.and empty. She had a body, and it was tired, but inside the body was a void. Her voice was surprisingly strong and when she spoke she could hear the accent different from the doctors, but the same as the others. Both men responded to it. "I don't know where I am." Beneath the doctor's hand her pulse jerked once, "I don't know who I am." "You've been through a great deal." The doctor spoke soothingly as his brain raced ahead. Specialists he though, if she didn't regain her memory in twenty four hours he'd need the best. "You remember nothing?" the other man had straightened at her words. Now with his ramrod stance, his sleep starved eyes he looked down at her. Confused, and fighting back fear she started to push herself up but the doctor was quick to soothe her back. She remembered.running, the storm, the dark. Lights coming up in front of her. Closing her eyes tight she struggled for composure without knowing why it was so important to retain it. Her voice was still strong but achingly hollow. "I don't know who I am. Tell me." "After you've rested a bit more," the doctor began. The other man caught him off with no more than a look of ice. Taking his hand in hers he held it firmly, "You are Lara, Lady Lara Croft, and I'm Hillary, I've been your friend and butler longer than I'd care to confess." Nightmare or fairy tale? She wondered as she stared up at him, her butler? Wasn't her family supposed to be there when she woke up? She had a butler? And the butler had a woman's name? "I--I can't remember.I'm tired." She began. "Yes, indeed," the doctor patted her hand, "For know Lady Croft, rest is the very best medicine. Reluctantly, Hillary released her hand, "I'll be close." Her strength was already beginning to ebb and she closed her yes, quickly falling victim to slumber. Hillary made his way down the corridor in his quick hop like step, he couldn't help if one leg was longer than the other.His best friend, the only family he had in the world had almost been lost to him, just the way her father had so many years ago. Now that he had her safely back, she looked at him as though he was a stranger. In the spacious, sun splashed Russian waiting room were several people, only two which bore any familiarity. Pacing, smoking, was a household name around Croft Manor, Alex West. Hit his shaggy blonde hair. The other sprawled across the couch was the third and final member of the actual Croft household, their hacker Bryce. His dark curly hair was always disarrayed, and his almost rat looking face hollow with lack of sleep. Alex raised his head as Hillary walked from the hospital doors, he was holding up well he thought, but then he'd expected no less. He'd met Hillary a few years ago, at his occasional dallying around the manor, he often had been the one to let him in when Lara had locked him out in the cold. He had been Lara's partner for a few tomb raids as he had so properly labeled, known her for the longest of times, let her down many more than that. But he looked more like a farmer than an archeologist at the moment When he stopped pacing, his long, rangy body moved subtly, muscle by muscle. The scrummed brown leather jacket over a plain navy T-shirt gave him an air of formality. He was the kind of man who's clothes, no matter how gruff or attractive, were noticed only after he was. His face drew attention first, perhaps because of the smooth good looks he'd inherited from his Scotch-Irish ancestors. His skin would have been pale if he hadn't spent so much rime outdoors. His sandy blonde hair sun streaked, insisting on falling over his brow. His mouth was wide and tended to be one of a playboy. His eyes were a charming sizzling blue that had half the women in Europe stumbling over themselves to get a glance at. HE used them to charm when it suited him, just as he used them to intimidate. "Well? "his accent was thicker hung with a hint of the old New Yorker in him. "She's conscious." At that Bryce stood nearly as a solider would. "How does she feel? When Can we see her?" Alex said his eyes darkening with concern. "She's tired, and I'd say so, perhaps tomorrow." Hillary said with a shake of his head. "We can take her home soon right?" Bryce said quietly, he'd like her home, where she belonged. "As soon as possible." Alex shifted his weight to his other leg, "What did she say? Tell me." he urged. "she remembered nothing, not even her own name." Hillary gave his head a shake. "Nothing? Not even-The raid at all?" "I doubt she remembers what a Tomb Raider is." His head moved at the same pace his neck straining, " I suggest the couch Mr. West." 


	3. Lost Lovers?

(A/N) I know its not necessary to put one at the beginning of each chapter.but I have no life so bare with me. Lara's forgotten who Lara is and has some interesting theories about Alex. ^_^ Oh yes for those who haven't figured already I like A&L opposites attract I guess.  
  
Disclaimer: All right this is getting depressing. I don't own Lara or Alex or Tomb Raider ect.no that belongs to some ass named Adrian Smith.mabey I'll invent a time machine and go back and Smother him on the toilet or something.then I'd be filthy rich. Wait.Toilet.yeah that's just filthy any ways.  
  
Chapter 3: Lost Lovers?  
  
The late morning sunlight filtered into the room. Alex continued to stare out the window tempted to grab and inhale another cigarette in his pocket. The woman that slept behind him in the hospital be looked to vulnerable, so fragile. God, he would have never thought she could ever look such a way, especially pointing an m-16 in your face. He closed his eyes to remember the Lara he liked best, those snug fitting shorts that framed a neat little bottom, the dark and gray colors she wore against her skin as copper as his from work under the sun. She always wore that foolish braid when raiding, never anything but a tight rubber band against those deep raven locks that swept halfway down her back. It was hair a man wanted to run his fingers through possessively. Her face was sharp angled, her mouth full and promising. And her eyes.He remembered them most of all. Full of power, intimidation. Her eyes under dark, arched brows surrounded by lush lashes had been like topaz. Almost reluctantly he turned to look at her now. Her face was all too delicate, pale and clammy, as though the life had been washed right out of it. Her hair was still rich, but it was brushed straight back leaving her face vulnerable. The beauty was still there, but so fragile a man would be afraid to touch. She always made men afraid, Alex mused, its what he loved best. One arm was thrown across her body, and he could see the ringless hand, nails bitten short for agility, the IV still fed into her wrist. It was that sight that caused anger to rush him. It had been a week since she'd disappeared from Gamel near the Russian Poland Boarder, two days since the young American coupe found he collapsed on the side of the road near Kiyev, nearly 200 miles away, yet no one knew what she had been through. She'd been on a raid, Hillary told him that much, after an artifact as usual, priceless, powerful, typical of Lara. She'd called in a few days before she never returned to the hotel she'd been staying at. Said simply she had the Orel and would be heading back in a few days time. She couldn't remember her own name. His brow furrowed in the midst of contemplation and that was how she saw him when she opened her eyes. Lara stared into the grim, furious face, saw the smoldering blue irises, the tight mouth and froze. What was dream what was real? She asked herself as she braced herself. The hospital. She allowed her gaze to leave his only long enough to ensure herself that she was still there. Her fingers tightened on the sheets until they were white, but her voice came calmly. "Who are you?" Alex kept his hands in his pockets. "Alex. Alex West, a friend." Lara relaxed a little. "You know me?" "We met several years ago on a job, I just sorta never went away." A smile crawled over his face but disappeared when her expression stayed constant seriousness. "You're American?" He hesitated a moment, his eyes narrowing, "Yes. You do you know?" "Your voice." Confusion came and went in her eyes. He could almost see her grab on to that one thin tread. "I hear it in your voice. I've been there.Have I been there?" "You've been more places than anyone would see in a life time Lar. You travel.you're a photographer of sorts." "A photographer?" her brow hitched. "Well after a fashion." He knew she thought. He knew but she could only guess. "Nothing." Tears welled up then were vanquished. She was too much her fathers daughter. 'Can you imagine," she began very steadily. "What it is to wake up with nothing? My life is blank pages. I have to wait for others to fill me in, I don't even know how old I am for Christ's sakes...what happened?" "Twenty nine and counting." The flash of impatient spirit took him back a pace. He tried not to smile, tried not to admire it, "Truth is no one knows.but you. And at a moment that isn't really a fall back plan." "It won't come clear." Her fingers reached out and gripped his. HE was taken back a bit, expecting something more like a punch in the arm for being stupidly witty, "You'll remember when you're willing to remember." Easy to say for you." She released his hand. "Something's stolen my life from me Mr. West.What's your place in this?" she demanded suddenly. "Were we lovers?" 


End file.
